30. VIKTOR

The hospital's V.I.P. wing was eerily quiet, the kind of silence that heightened tension. Murad walked with purpose, his polished shoes making muted clicks on the pristine floor. Fahad followed closely, his expression a blend of concern and determination. They approached the door of the room where Joma, a disguised mafia member, lay.

Murad paused for a moment, taking a deep breath. He pushed open the door, and the sight before him was sobering. Joma lay on the hospital bed, surrounded by an array of medical equipment. Tubes and wires connected him to monitors that beeped rhythmically, tracking his vital signs.

Joma, usually a formidable presence in their world, looked frail and vulnerable. His skin was pale, and his eyes, though open, seemed distant and unfocused. The room was dimly lit, casting long shadows on the walls, adding to the somber atmosphere.

Fahad approached the bed, his face a mask of controlled emotion. “Joma,” he sighed softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

Joma's eyes flickered, struggling to focus on Murad and Fahad. He attempted a weak smile. “Murad... I knew you'd come,” he rasped, his voice weak and strained.

Fahad moved to the other side of the bed, his eyes scanning the monitors and IV bags. “What happened, Joma? Who did this to you?”

Joma’s gaze shifted between Murad and Fahad. “It was... a setup,” he whispered, his breathing labored. “They... they knew I was coming. Someone tipped them off.”

Murad clenched his fists, a wave of anger washing over him. “Who? Who betrayed you?”

Joma coughed, wincing in pain. “I don’t know... but... you need to be careful. They’re after... all of us.”

Murad's jaw tightened. He leaned closer to Joma, his voice firm but gentle. “We’ll find out who did this, Joma. And they’ll pay for it. But for now, you need to rest and get better.”

Joma nodded weakly, his eyes closing momentarily as if the effort to stay awake was too much. “Murad... trust no one... not even...”

Before he could finish his sentence, his body convulsed slightly, and the machines beeped more rapidly. A nurse rushed in, her face professional but concerned.

“Please, step outside for a moment,” she instructed, moving quickly to check the machines and adjust Joma’s IV.

Murad and Fahad exchanged a glance, then stepped out into the corridor. Murad’s mind was racing. Someone within their ranks had betrayed Joma, and by extension, had betrayed him. The thought made his blood boil.

“Fahad,” Murad signed, his eyes dark and intense, “we need to tighten security. Find out who knew about Joma’s mission and question them. I want answers.”

Fahad nodded, his expression grim. “Consider it done. We’ll get to the bottom of this, Murad.”

Murad took another deep breath, trying to calm the storm of emotions inside him. The stakes were higher than ever, and he knew he had to stay sharp. He couldn’t afford any more betrayals.

As they waited for news on Joma’s condition, Murad’s resolve hardened. He would find the traitor, no matter what it took. And when he did, they would wish they had never crossed him.

As they exited the hospital, they went back to the Hotel with Fahad working on his tablet and Murad driving them back. It was not a problem for Murad to drive, he had a photogenic memory. But it was just amnesia that got into his way of past.

~☆~

Murad sat on his bed playing with his phone as he huffed out a breath.

“Alright, Fahad,” Murad signed, his face calm but eyes commanding. “Tell me everything about Joma’s mission.”

Fahad opened the file and began to brief Murad with precise details. “The mission was a standard reconnaissance and retrieval operation. Joma and his team, Alpha team were sent to intercept a shipment believed to contain illegal arms being smuggled into our territory. The intel we received indicated that the shipment would arrive at the old docks around midnight.”

Murad nodded, listening intently.

“Joma had a team of five with him,” Fahad continued. “All seasoned operatives. Their objective was to secure the shipment and apprehend any suspects involved. They were equipped with the latest gear and had backup positioned a few miles away, ready to intervene if necessary.”

Murad leaned back in his chair, his fingers steepled. “What went wrong?”

Fahad sighed, his face darkening. “It appears that someone within our organization leaked the details of the mission. When Joma and his team arrived at the docks, they were ambushed. The attackers knew exactly when and where they would be. It was a setup.”

Murad’s eyes narrowed. “Who knew about the mission?”

“Only a handful of trusted members,” Fahad replied. “But it’s clear we have a mole. The ambush was too precise. Joma managed to escape but not without sustaining serious injuries. The rest of the team... didn’t make it.”

A silence fell over the room, heavy with the weight of loss and betrayal.

Murad’s mind raced as he processed the information. “Do we have any leads on the mole?”

“We’ve started an internal investigation,” Fahad said. “But it’s going to take time. Whoever did this covered their tracks well.”

Murad’s fist clenched. “We don’t have time. This mole is a threat to everything we’ve built. We need to find them and make an example of them.”

Fahad nodded. “Agreed. I’ve already instructed our security team to tighten protocols and monitor all communications. We’ll get to the bottom of this.”

Murad took a deep breath, his eyes filled with determination. “Good. Keep me updated on the investigation. And make sure Joma gets the best medical care. We can’t afford to lose him.”

“Understood,” Fahad said, closing the file. “There’s one more thing, Murad. Before Joma lost consciousness, he mentioned something about a new player in the game. Someone who’s been trying to destabilize our operations.”

Murad’s brows furrowed. “Did he give any details?”

“Just a name,” Fahad replied. “Viktor.”

Murad’s eyes darkened at the mention of the name. “Viktor... I’ve heard whispers about him. A ruthless operator known for his strategic mind and brutal tactics.”

“We need to find out more about him,” Fahad said. “If he’s behind this, he’s a serious threat.”

Murad nodded. “Leave that to me. I’ll reach out to our contacts and gather all the information we can on Viktor. In the meantime, focus on rooting out the mole and securing our operations.”

Fahad gave a sharp nod. “Consider it done.”

As Fahad left the room, Murad sat in silence, his mind a whirlwind of thoughts. The betrayal had cut deep, but it had also ignited a fire within him. He would find the mole, deal with Viktor, and ensure that his organization emerged stronger than ever.